


Heart Like Ice

by RatKingDad



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beau doesn't know how to feelings, F/F, more bittersweet than anything, this doesn't have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatKingDad/pseuds/RatKingDad
Summary: Beau had a very simple coping mechanism, but of course tonight it wouldn't work.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Kudos: 70





	Heart Like Ice

It was the worst fight the Nein had had in a long time. Not worst in terms of overall casualty but worst in terms of general kick-assery. They had fought sloppily and frankly, as the front line fighter of the group, Beau felt at least partially responsible. Her hit average was normally at least five or six out of ten landings but today her fist didn’t connect one hit to that stupid trolls fucking flesh. She ended up getting in a couple of good hits with her staff, but overall the fight belonged to the people in the party who could actually do magic. The special ones. Somewhere in the back of her raging and self-hatred fueled mind Beau knew that was bullshit and that if she voiced those feelings out loud she would just get denials and worry and, Ioun forbid, disappointment, from the rest of her party. That’s what she was trying to fucking avoid before she got into this shit. 

Because of-fucking-course her normal coping mechanism of repress, drink, fight, and fuck (in that order) wouldn't work out. Steps one and two were working out great. Beau had managed to slip away from the relatively nice inn the Nein were staying in and into a seedy dive where no one would recognize her. She was three mugs of cheap booze deep when step three came into play. 

The big dude had been talking shit all night. He was bulky enough that Beau thought he might be a goliath before she realized he was just a pale jacked human. He was a lumbering jackass, slow enough that Beau thought her speed would inevitably win out, but strong enough that he would get a couple of good hits in. She didn’t want an easy fight. She wanted a struggle. She wanted to hurt and be hurt. The pain was real, it was punishment and adrenaline that coursed through her veins in a way that happiness never had. Fights brought fleeting moments where there was nothing in the world that could destroy her.

This of course was depended on her actually winning the fight. Which she hadn’t this time. She lifted herself groaning from the floor of the podunk tavern, her bruised limbs feeling like lead. A sharp pain lanced through her torso and began a slow throb that encompassed her entire body. Yeah, her ribs were definitely broken. Beau used her staff as a walking stick, pushing herself down the street back towards the inn. She got an odd look from the halfling at the front desk. Apparently, blood-soaked monks were not part of his usual clientele. 

She creaked open the door to her and Jester’s room, hoping that the tiefling would have gone to bed by now. Just her luck, Jester was propped up against her headboard, wide awake. Beau didn’t have time to try and cover up her injuries before Jester took in her banged-up form. Her stomach filled with dread as Jester’s face fell and her face twisted with concern. She didn’t deserve this softness, this feather-light worry. Especially not from someone so purely good as Jester. The tiefling ran over to her, placing her freezing cold hands on Beau’s bloody and sweat-dripping face. Something warm in Beau’s chest cracked open and spilled into her guts, filling her to the brim, with light.

“I’m in love with you”, she slurred before she could stop herself. Jester flinched back, looking horribly distressed. Beau wanted to correct herself, but Jester turned to look away from her, curling in on herself in a way that was soul-crushing to Beau.

“You don’t mean that, Beau. You’re drunk and hurt”, Jester responded in a despondent tone. Beau sighed heavily and grumbled,

“I’m always drunk and hurt,”

“Yeah, and I’m starting to get a little worried about that”, Jester said in a concerned voice. It left a horribly bitter taste in Beau’s mouth, more overwhelming than the blood and bile that was already there. The last thing she wanted was Jester’s concern. It was Beau’s job to worry, to protect, to take hits for the members of the party who couldn’t. It was not Beau’s job to be fussed over.

“I’m fine and I’m not lying Jessie. I’m in love with you,” she insisted. Jester just sighed and shook her head, Beau feeling the distress grow in her by the second.  
“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Right now you need healing”, Jester replied, effectively shutting her down. Her hands began to glow the cool blue of her healing spells, the energy radiating feeling like ice soothing her skin. But, they had a tough fight today and Jester must be tired. Beau didn’t want her to wear herself out. She shifted away from the touch, letting out a gruff.

“A little barfight won’t take me down,”

“Beau”, Jester’s big blue eyes bore deep into Beau’s heart. How could anyone ever deny this girl anything? Beau knew she certainly couldn’t

“Alright, heal away”

Jester moved to place hands on Beau’s torso and she flinched a bit, expecting the pain of contact with such intense bruising. The pain didn’t come, though, just cooling healing that mesmerized Beau as she watched the blue fade from her skin, leaving it only slightly more irritated than normal. Jester’s hands stayed on her just slightly too long. Beau had felt Jester’s hands before, soft and wide, stronger than they looked. Those hands, with such power to heal, wielded light as well as they did a hatchet. She had dreamed of those hands, in her hair, on her face, and everywhere else. If her skin was light enough, Jester would have seen her blush brightly at the contact. She felt frozen and she knew she must be gaping at Jester but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Jester’s eyes met her’s for just a second too long. Just long enough to set her stomach aflutter. 

The moment broke as Jester pulled away hastily. Her face was tinted purple with a blush. Before Beau could speak again, Jester was already in her own bed, simultaneously much too close and much too far for Beau’s comfort. She turned to face the wall, though Beau remained facing her.

“Goodnight, Beau. Sweet dreams,” Jester’s voice sounded like she was holding back tears. Beau felt her own eyes begin to water and she wiped at them roughly.

“’ Night Jess,”


End file.
